


You dream about heat

by demonn



Series: Let’s give this love a new name [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes has a way with words, Bucky Barnes-centric, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Has A Heart, a bit of angst, bucky Barnes has anxiety, enemies to reluctant friends/coworkers, he doesn’t understand though, mentions of mental health issues, not really steve Friendly, pre slash, reflection of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 12:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonn/pseuds/demonn
Summary: Forgiveness isn’t about who gives it to you , it’s about whether or not you can take it. Take a step , take the dive , you have to learn how to sink before you learn how to swim.





	You dream about heat

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this comes from a poem by Keaton st James called static. I suggest you check it out , I really love his poetry and I feel like the lines would fit the theme firnosmemofntye titles in this series.

James Winter (because he was , and still is a soldier. And besides , it's got a certain kind of ring to it.) Barnes , not Bucky , not the asset , was born amidst a storm; a reflection of what was inside his head.

It was the kind of birthing that hurt. The ink staining his fingers looked like blood , it felt like his shirt was wrapping itself around his neck and choking him in ways that incited some burning kind of feeling in him. Like heat pooling in the bottom of his stomach. Like pain induced whip sharp , pleasure.

James Barnes was born to a world of pleasure , grasping himself in his bed because he was never allowed to do it before , not as James and not as the asset , not as a solider and not back when they told him he could be whatever he wanted to.

(He wanted to say that he wanted to be able to kiss guys , to hold that pretty boy that was a bartender at the local bar in the same way that Samson at the auto shop held Judie, the greengrocers daughter, like his mother held his father. He wanted his mouth to say words that he had been told - by many , by so many - could only exist in the mind, words the earth had told him to never speak.

He wanted to tell them that he wanted his love to be allowed out in the open, that he didn't want to confine it to dark alleys or abandoned buildings , or by the creek no one went to because a whole family had died there. He wanted to say that he wanted to raise a family with a man not a woman, maybe have a dog and live a peaceful life where he didn't have to fight for anything.

He'd said, instead , I want to help people. And it wasn't a lie , but it wasn't the truth either.)

And he lay there , spent and trembling ( was he really Bucky Barnes if he was trembling all the goddamn time?) as the boundaries of time closed in on him, purple bruised and white hot.

He lay there as the sun rose from the ravine that was the sky , the rays spreading across his body as he lay strapped to the bed because no one trusted him enough for him to just sleep freely , not even Steve , who insisted that he was Bucky and not James , the soldier and not a person with person-like features and person-like expressions and person-like wants and needs and emotions because apparently negative ones didn't count.

He lay there , grasping at the tab that was his mind , pulling and pulling to open all the restricted zones. He had always thought of his kind as a library , and each book a memory , each person a file , each place a painting hanging on the walls. Each room in his library ( his mind , really) was different, reflecting how he felt at any given moment. Yellows and cyans meant happy , oak floors and a fun rug lay by the window. If he felt a little ( much more than a little , really , considering just how shut away he always felt) withdrawn? The room had , thick , drawn curtains , the door was locked and the lights were dimmed, all his books were locked in safes and it was a little cold. Just cold enough that he was still warm , like a long awaited breeze on a summer day.

He'd shared a bit with Steve one day , feeling surprisingly open , talked about how he was categorising it all , imagining locks around certain things , chains around others. He'd even described what he was wearing in the 'visions' -as he liked to call them- the descriptions ranging from the turtleneck and sweats he was wearing one day, to the heavy diamonds and furs he could be wearing the next.

It and been a stupid decision on his part , he found , because Steve had set his jaw in a way that just screamed disappointment , and his eyes had hardened in a way that suggested he really wanted to yell at him or scream or shout. He'd turned a little red in the face when James' own jaw had tightened , almost unwillingly , and sighed.

“You can't lock memories like this away , Bucky," he had said, gentle chastise edging on the tone of his words. He treated him like he was a child and it infuriated him to no end. The cautious movements , the wrong names , the increasingly controlling actions of the team? He could barely handle that , but this? Them treating him like a child? It made him want to go off the handle.

It was like how Hydra had treated him , like a mindless being who couldn't make decisions for themselves , and not a fully grown person ( or in Hydra's eyes , creature ) that could wash their own hands , and cut their own peppers and look into space contradicting everything they had ever learnt without flying off the handle like they had no self control.

He could function , he had to function , so why would they treat him like he couldn't?

He'd shrugged it off , smiling tightly and going back to dicing his pineapple into cubes with a table knife , because he couldn't be trusted with a bigger one yet.

 

*

 

America was not the land of the free.

James realised this the first time he had set foot on the land and he realised this as he stepped off of the plane from Wakanda , hair tied up in a mockery of a bun since the team didn't feel safe with him wearing his metal arm while they were all in such an enclosed area. Steve had agreed with them , James thought that it wasn't on the basis that it was dangerous ( but it was and god , he loved it for that reason ) but because he couldn't stand to see it, a reminder that he had failed him once before and ( in James' opinion ) had failed him over and over again after that.

The arm itself was a beauty though , and why couldn't Steve just see that? The Wakandan scientists and Stark - it had to be Stark , as much as James admired the Wakandan , he had to admit that they needed some help in the project. The arm needed maintenance and he couldn't fly out to Wakanda just because the artificial tendons in his middle finger had snapped or something from excessive use - had made it even better than his old arm and his flesh arm from way back when he was in the army.

The arm was not really an arm , not anymore at least , more ... an extension of the self. He was flesh and bone and blood before he was wires and circuits and smooth , always cold , vibranium alloy. The way it flexed , the way the vents opened , it was like watching a bad person die; immeasurably satisfactory for all the right reasons, though sometimes there was a little underlying guilt.

America was not the land of the free. So many people were chained to their jobs , family , debt. So many people were lost to their own demons , struggling to survive in a world that was so against them. Women, gay people , POC; all chained to the crippling foundations of American society. It angered him to see people call it the land of the free , because couldn’t they see that these people were not free , they weren’t happy , and the ones who were happy had gone through unimaginable pain.

The smells had overwhelmed him. Steve had said that New York smelt horrible , nothing like it was back in the 40's. Even though James couldn't actually remember the 40's , he was sure that the modern version of the city smelt way prettier than Steve's talk of greasy diners and salt and tobacco.

Modern New York smelt like money and dirt and humanity. If he had to compare it to anything , then it had to be the middle ground between heaven and earth. He was sure that if you climbed too the top of one of those skyscrapers and hung your hand out , god would give you a high five.

(James wasn't religious in the slightest , mind you , he had always thought of god as too high and mighty to care for the little guy. He was sure that god existed in everyone , not in the ways that people were telling you , but in a different way. God was the lesbian down at the bar that went out with him to functions so no one would suspect either of them were gay. God was the boy with acid green hair and one eye who'd grinned at him , waving a sign saying 'POWS deserve better' in large black letters. God was every stranger who'd waved at him as Steve dragged him into stage , waving signs saying that he didn't have to fight.

God was human , not all powerful, and he was sure that it would be easier to accept a god with scuffed trainers and piercings and a leather jacket than the one people used to justify their hate.)

New York had a sour kind of tang to it , not unpleasant , just sour. It was like the whole city had been sped up until it was simply a blur on the never ending camera that was life. It made him wish that everyone would just slow down , take a moment to smell the flowers and enjoy life in a world where it could end so quickly. The fact tinged the city bitter , like dark chocolate or coffee with no sugar, in ways that left James oddly sad.

It wasn't important though , he couldn't slow down the whole city , and besides. People had lives , they had places to go so how could he deny them their need to go faster?

The airport landing was crowded with people , some waving signs , some standing and taking photos , many shouting indiscernible things. It was overwhelming and it felt like every nerve in his body was set aflame. If anything , Steve's chatter in his ear made it worse. The words were meant to be soothing , comforting , but really they set him on the edge even more. The repetitiveness of it all made him twitch and squirm away from him , right into the edge of the first barrier.

He dragged his metalhand ( he was finally allowed to have it back ) across his face instead of screaming at them all , barely concealed rage creeping up his spine and into the coils of his shoulders. Anger was like poison , and like all poisons , James was incredibly resistant to it. He went through calming breathing exercises, inhaled oils that were meant to make you calmer , stayed away from drugs and alcohol. He done all he could do to make sure he kept his cool , even in stressful situations such as this one.

And sure , he did get anxiety attacks every once in a while , but at least he didn't stab himself in the arm with a fork to bring himself back to reality anymore. Anxiety attacks were more like flashbacks to him. He would be transported back to his Hydra days to relive whatever had triggered it. It was a painful way of existing , a downside to living as James Barnes.

The soldier had not remembered anything nothing from his life before, it didn't feel , it wasn't even a person. It was an it. If he had chosen to be the solider he wouldn't have had to suffer through panic attacks and trembling and constant exhaustion. But James Barnes could feel , and sure , he always got back up and kept on surviving , but the feeling of being knocked down regularly was as humiliating as it was painful. Humiliating , because he had to admit , that at one point he had been the Soldier. The Soldier had lived through unimaginable things , had adapted to fit the mould Hydra had designed for him, manger to bend himself to the will of his captors. James had been the Soldier , yet he was being crippled by his own mind with increasing regularity.

It was horrifying that he had convinced himself he had to get used to it , and it would continue to be horrifying.

James stood on the stage numbly , regretting his decision to wear such a tight turtleneck. It was another thing that seemed to suffocate him at that moment. He had thought he'd looked put together when he'd looked in the mirror earlier. Even the Wakandan's had complimented him on his look. Plus , he thought that the charcoal colour of the turtleneck bought out the gunmetal blue of his eyes.

Steve , not really understandably, had regarded him with suspicion. Not that James could blame him, that was on him. The outfit looked similar to an outfit that he had described too the blond in his fit of irrationality. Turtleneck , jacket , trousers, doc martins. It was basically the same outfit minus the expensive rings and jewellery. Steve had taken it as him reverting into someone that was not like the James they had now , not that Steve could see he was different, he still thought of him as Bucky , called him Bucky , and joked about the old times like he could actually remembered them. It made for some awkward moments that included James fake laughing along because he was a kind person and really , had been deceiving everyone the whole time.

When it came to the time for him to speak ( a legal requirement that had him shaking , but alas , he couldn't exactly afford to go on the run again just because his brain was freaking out over saying a few words in front of a ginormous crowd with cameras and it was all going too go on live tv and millions of people who had every right to hate him would probably laugh and share the video so all of their friends and family could see him cry on stage- and damn. He'd made himself nervous again.) He'd worked himself into a nervous wreck.

Why the team had pushed to be able to perform speeches on live tv was beyond him , wouldn't it have been better for them to just shut up and get to the compound in record time rather than linger and deliver speeches that would do nothing but anger people. James was sure that they would piss off more than they would inspire , after all , he had heard them practice.

Since he had a legal obligation to deliver a speech , he'd prepared a few notecards in private. It would be fairly neutral. He wasn't looking to incite the peoples rage or have them grovel at his feet or anything for his forgiveness. Really , he wanted to get it over and done with and hopefully leave the crowd no angrier and no happier than they had been before. He didn't want his words to have an affect on anyone , but knowing the general public ( really , it was more knowing human behaviour. He didn't have a lot of time to associate with the people of America in a non hostile fashion , but he had 70 years worth of psychological knowledge on how to manipulate human behaviour. Whether that was good or bad was not his business anymore , he had the knowledge and he could use it if he wanted to , but really , who gave him the right?) they would take it differently.

The speech mainly focused on apologising and making it public knowledge that he was no longer a brain washed super soldier and would - hopefully - start a quiet life where he was completely unproblematic and socially advanced enough to make phone calls without breaking down. He wouldn't say that last part though. As forward as they were about mental health , LGBT issues , rights for minorities , etc , he wasn't comfortable saying shit about just how badly Hydra had affected him. At the most, he could tell them all that he had gotten rid of the triggers and would lead a quiet life where he bothered absolutely no one.

It wasn't the American dream wanted him to have or the life spent avenging either , but Bucky hadn't wanted the American dream either. Bucky had wanted to stop fighting and he guessed that translated over to him, even if there was no talk of another person ever coming to live with him in his cabin in the woods other than a couple of animals. And sure , a couple of animals couldn't replace his previously yearned or family , but that was the point. He didn't want that anymore , and he believed the day anyone actually knew that would be the day chaos ascended.

 

*

 

His speech , thankfully , went surprisingly well , at least , that's what he thought.

The moment the door to the car closed , the team ascended in him like he as merely their prey. "Bucky," Steve started, using the same ineffective voice he always used. "Why didn't you speak about something else. Like the team or something."

James feigned innocence , blinking blindly back at Steve in a rare attempt to invoke some kind of empathy from the man. His attempts were lost to the wind though , with Steve taking it as James deliberately ignoring him. In a way , he was , but you could hardly blame that on him ,  could you? The intricacies of his own brain ( much rather , the part of it that hated him ) was way to interesting to ignore.

"We were meant to get the public to see our side , to voice our views, to let the world know we will continue fighting for the right causes," Steve said , tapping his foot idly in front of James , casting his eyes over to Sam then to Natasha then back to Steve.

With the four of them in a car alone , the tensions were high yet the bullshit radar readings were higher. It wasn't that they weren't telling the truth , that is what they wanted to do after all , but what they thought were the right causes was very subjective. The right causes had led them to destroy many people's lives and chase after a man that clearly didn't want to be found. The right causes had let to them being held in the raft. Sometimes what people thought were the right causes , were the wrong causes.

One of the most important lessons in dealing with a person , or a group of people , was that morality was subjective and that rationality had not been evenly distributed among the human population. What may have been rational to him, ( and what was rational to James was that they should have left him the fuck alone ) was not rational to them ( what was rational to them was that they had to follow him and find him or die trying , in his opinion , James had thought they actually would have died in their pursuit for chaos incarnate).

"I did get the public to see my views," James informed him , voice cheerful even with Steve's face doing a grim impersonation of dissatisfaction. "It's not my fault that my views consisted of peaceful living and good health all while overthrowing the system that makes it so hard for the the regular people to succeed."

"It made it seem that you were looking to kill the president for his crimes against the people then retreat back into... doing whatever," Steve said , waving a hand.

"If anything , people are applauding me for my - not meant to be inspiring - speech," James said , raising a brow and waving his newly acquainted phone at Steve. "See , Twitter loves me , and for what? Because I have pretty much all the values one would like to see in a modern day defender of the people."

"People see you as an Avenger?" Steve asked m eyes wide with disbelief. "That's great! That's more than-"

"People see me as a protester , not an Avenger. Defender of the people in a different way , all the pins on my lapel have inspired people to overthrow the system without having to assassinate any political leaders."

James lifted his lapel up for Steve too see , the pins jingling as he went. "People love a bisexual , non-toxic , person fighting for the rights of people suffering from a mental disorder , autism , misogynist, racism , etc. And people love a person who doesn't do it for clout."

Natasha scrolled through her own phone , no doubt checking to see if he was right. After a while she looked up , red lips twisted into a scowl that done nothing but make James smile harder."He's right but he's also wrong. While a large percentage of his 'fans' do agree with his stand , there are a few that advise him to focus on fighting and protecting American citizens from threats like alien invasions and such. There a few comments under each of those posts saying things in line with 'how much captain America propaganda do you read' and 'he's protecting the people in a different way' and one 'suck my classic American balls'."

Steve blushed at the last comment , oddly scandalised by how blunt Natasha was being. James smiled , it wasn't an odd change of pace for her , but it was weird to see her defending him , especially when Steve was so against whatever he had done.

James smiled smugly , a little reminiscent of the old Bucky Barnes , just toeing the line of unsympathetic. It was rude , in a way , to throw back Steve's doubts right into his face yet act like he was sorry for him. He didn't regret acting that way though , he wasn't going to change himself to make himself kinder and if anything , James thought of himself as too kind already. After all , he had decided to stay with the Avengers instead of fucking off to the woods and building a cabin with his bare hands like he had planned to. It was incredibly easier to build a cabin if you had two hands and the skills to fix said hand in an accident, not that there would be accidents in his cabin in the woods.

"It wasn’t what we were aiming for," Natasha continued , slightly agitated under the layers of careful blankness," We were trying to get the people to agree to you becoming an Avenger , now they don't want you to fight at all. There's petitions , people are organising protests , people are talking about getting you on panels to just talk. No conversations on fighting the war against the wrong causes."

"You're even trending on Twitter , your account hasn't really been found yet , but people are already making edits of you, gifsets the whole lot," Sam added , slightly dazed by it all. Not that James could blame him. He had basically gone from one of the most hated men in the world , to the public's golden boy. People loved him and he had basically done nothing but talk , it made sense that people would want him to continue talking. Not that he particularly wanted to continue talking.

"Look," Steve said after a while , watching the car pull up into the driveway," We'll talk about it later, as a team. We need to figure out what the next step forward after this is."

"Oh," James said , another , smaller , smile playing at his face. "I think I know what the next step forward is. It's a panel show , it starts with 'Lesbian' and ends with 'Anarchists' and I want to listen to it all the time.”

Steve made a noise that was somewhere between a wounded noise and a battle cry.

 

*

 

The meeting was going ... well. Well ,not well at all , really , considering Steve had dug himself into a deep hole and James really couldn't find it in him to be anymore sorry than he was for himself.

He had watched , and waited , and watched as Steve made comment after comment after remark , further ruining his chances for reconciliation. It seemed like he was the only person who actually realised that he'd ruined his chances. The others were nodding along approvingly , sometimes interjecting with their own additional remarks , further backing Steve up. It was shit show and vaguely reminded him of a tire rolling down a hill with little children's stalls at the bottom the hill. The tire was also lit with Greek fire. The tire was made of vibranium. The tire wasn't even really a tire , it was more a wrecking ball than a tire really , but this wrecking ball could be set on fire with fire that didn't even exist.

"I personally think," Steve continued , oblivious to the fact that he sounded incredibly stupid, in accordance to James' opinion, "that I should pilot the team. I have experience handling a team like this one and I'm familiar with each member of the team."

"What a load of bullshit," James uttered , barely loud enough for himself to hear , let alone the others. It was a load of bullshit. Sure , Steve had experience, but it wasn't adequate experience , and his bonds with the team had been built on selfishness , or hero worship , or pining. The new avengers wouldn't fall to his words like these ones hard , Stark wouldn't stand for his words even if the old one had.

"Mr. Barnes," the accords counsellor said , a neutral smile plastered onto her face. "What are your opinions on the change of team management."

"Well," he started," I don't know who the lucky bastard is , but I hope they do a good job. It's not really my decision who gets to be head of management and nothing I say - unless it's really damning - and frankly , I don't even know why you're asking me of my opinion. All you should know is that I will cooperate with a competent leader and that's that, my personal feelings don't matter." James shrugged , continuing to flip through the tweets in his phone , focusing for a moment before sighing and throwing it down.

"Look," he started again. "You , Miss. Althea Oluwole , had some ulterior motive behind asking me about how I felt about all of this. Pretend I don't exist , boot me out of the equation , I am but I speck of dust on the table. In fact wipe me away-" James swiped his sleeve over the tabletop"- I don't matter at all."

"Mr. Barnes," Althea asked , slight concern etched on her face. "I was not aware that we had ulterior motives regarding your thoughts and feelings, if you were paying attention you would know that we have asked everyone else."

James refused to look even slightly embarrassed, head cocking slightly with an easy smile. "You guys always have ulterior motives. You asked everyone about their thoughts in this matter to gauge how much effort you will have to put into new management and which people will be the hardest to deal with. It's ok though , Miss. Oluwole, I can assure you I won't ever ping on your radar."

"Ping," she said , voice monotone. "You are now on my radar."

"I think you and I are going to be good friends Miss."

 

*

 

"I think, Miss. Althea , you have done a bad thing," James said , sipping his ice coffee slowly. "A very bad thing. I would go as far as to say that you've committed an act against the structure of my life and society."

"I think, Mr. Barnes , that making you head of social media connections , is not as bad as you imply." Althea ran her eyes over him , flicking the brown orbs from head to toe openly, then looking to the room that contained the rest of the avengers, new and old. "After all , you talked to a live audience once and suddenly you became the internet's darling boy. If anything, we've done a good thing."

"I think that you and many other people are forgetting I'm an actual murderer. Like, I committed some pretty serious crimes against society. I once killed a dog. Granted , I'm not sure it was a dog , more murderous science born beast , but it looked vaguely like a dog and I just killed it."

"Now is not the time for you to dwell on your past kills, do it off of office hours." Althea gave her equivalent of rolling her eyes , glancing upwards as if pleading with god and running her tongue along the front of her teeth.

"I am never stepping into the office and I'm a self-employed, I work for me and me alone," James rolled his eyes , waving away Althea's hands. "I'm not cut out for this Thea , I'm barely even cut out for life. Do you know you're my closest friend and I only met you 2 hours , 3 minutes and 20 seconds - give or take - ago."

"I can assure you , the sentiment is not the same. You are like a drowning tiger cub , I must save you , I must protect you , but you will grow to protect yourself."

"More African words of wisdom," James said , brushing his hair back and securing it it's another clip. "But you have to look at it from another angle , namely , my angle. What good is this job even going to do me? I'm going to be stressed trying to manage the lives of the avengers from social media , all while trying to manage my own fake life."

"That wasn't in your job description but ok," Althea said , nails clicking on the keyboard. "James , look, I'm not here to try and force you to take the job , my job is to gently persuade you , and if that's not working I'll just go back to my original option that was FRIDAY , Mr. Stark's personal AI. Your normal work day would include you in panels , you on social media or something , or just talking , a podcast even. its just you and your free time, get a hobby , cook or whatever you enjoy doing."

"I enjoy sitting and staring into space as I write disturbing poetry," James said , voice vacant of even basic emotion. It wasn't a lie , that was what he really did enjoy doing but normally the circumstances weren't so dark.

He would sit under the sun and read disturbing poetry in a floppy sunhat that made him feel like a rich housewife. He would write disturbing poetry at dawn , sweat cloying at his skin as he filtered out line after line of passion filled poetic goodness. Sitting and staring into space as he thought up line after line , picture after picture to draw out later , another piece for his notebook that contained any worthy thought that came to his mind.

"I'm sure you do," Althea smiled slightly , before letting it slide off her face. "But find something new , Mr, Rogers told me you like art so why don't you go for some different mediums. Try sculpting."

"Why are we talking about this?" James asked , slightly confused but eager to see what she would say next. Althea , he found , with her carefully slicked back hair and dark red lipstick and killer eyeliner, was like a Russian doll that never ended. Even in the short time that he had known her, she had uncovered so many personas (too many to be healthy really) and she was constantly switching between them , confusing you but sometimes pushing you to do more.

She was strong , unimaginably so , you had to be to survive working for the accords council and helping the avengers out. James admired her. Not because she was his closest friend , but because she didn't have to be his friend but she became his friend anyway purely on the basis that he was -in her words- 'a drowning tiger cub that she had to save but could grow to save themselves'. Damn. She had a way with words.

"We were talking about this because , against all odds , I am your friend , and as your friend I am required to inform you about all the best decisions you can make. As your UN appointed agent I am also required to inform you about the best decisions but in a more clinical sense."

"It's hard to believe you want the best for me Althea , no matter how close we are." James downed the dregs of his ice coffee , plucking a smaller ice cube out of the glass and crunching it down , relishing in the slightly vanilla taste of it.

"I want the best for the people I work with," she responded , shutting her laptop with a soft click. "And if that means that I want the best for you then so be it."

James nodded resolutely , his eyes harden in all the same as his fingers clenched around the hem of his turtleneck. He squeezed his eyes shut when they started watering, taking in a deep breath then letting it out , repeating the action again.

"It's going to be hard," he said , revealing the tenderest parts of his mind. The never ending feeling of inadequacy ( he couldn't be Bucky , he couldn't be the soldier , he could barely be James) that pounded in the back of his mind with every step that he took , every move that he made. He worked it out of himself sometimes , using the pounding as a way to pace his pleasure , until he laid spent on the bed , licking the remains of his euphoria off his fingers because he was strapped to the bed and that mean he couldn't go and wipe it off in the bathroom. "It's always going to be hard."

"Sometimes you have to let the cub drown a little before you save it. It's when you're drowning that you will learn how to swim , how to breath."

 

*

 

James was surprised , at the least , when Althea ( that traitor ) requested for him and Stark to stay back after the meeting.

Steve had regarded her with hard eyes , laced with distrustfulness as another remark lay on his tongue. The others had equally disturbing looks , eying the thin blue lines running up and down Stark’s arms with a special breed of horror. James almost enjoyed it , but the fact that those looks were aimed at Stark struck something deep inside him , and the pounding in the back of his head returned.

Pietro had been looking at him strangely since he had came back from his short talk with Althea , his aqua blue eyes rimmed purple from sleep deprivation. Wanda’s death had hit him hard , the realisation that they had other choices asides from Hydra had hit him harder , the fact that his sister had lied to him the whole him hit him the hardest.

James felt sorry for the man , he was simply a victim caught in the machinations of his sister's evil. It was confusing to love someone yet hate them at the same time. It was confusing finding out the person you loved was a bad person , that they would willingly follow nazis and string you along under the guise of love and family and raw fear. It was a feeling that broke hearts , but also remade them , and James had no doubt that Pietro was strong , stronger than Wanda had ever been , and he would move past this because the most important thing about rebuilding yourself was that you had to get up.

“Mr. Stark,” Althea started, after the avengers had cleared out of the room. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Don’t mention it,” Stark said , waving his hand flippantly though his eyes screamed uncomfortable. “How am I meant to resist the charm if such a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you for the compliment Mr. Stark, but I’m afraid I have more pressing matters at hand and thus, this meeting will have to be sped up.” Althea tapped her nails on the glass table top, smiling indulgently at the both of them. James nodded along , tapping out a slow beat using the pads of his fingers , sipping on his newly acquired iced coffee.

“After a little persuasion-“ James scoffed , it was more forceful , but he guessed they were going to be lying. “- Mr. Barnes has agreed to ‘manage’ the avengers social media and help with public events. Due to this , you will both be working very closely with each other , as you are the most prominent member of the avengers at the moment. The job can be hard-“

“I thought you said it would easy and I could set my own hours?” James said , seemingly in shock.

“No,” Althea said, eyes cutting over to James. “You said that. If I remember correctly , Mr, Barnes, I said that ‘you have to let the cub drown before you save it’.”

“I really hope this is all a metaphor because I believe the UN can not afford to have a lawsuit in their hands , Miss. Oluwole,” Stark smirked , the blue lines in his arm glowing briefly. “Especially after all the trouble they have gone through to get Barnes here in one piece.”

“Just an inside joke,” she said , shuffling a few papers before sliding a paper lip onto them and placing them back into her bag.

“I haven’t entered a legally binding agreement though,” James informed her , a little smug.

“In the eyes of the accords , you are obligated , not legally , but obligated. As your friend , I’m not letting you slip on those duties.”A troubled look passed over James’ face , darkening his grey eyes and causing his jaw to tense just slightly. He ran his metal hand through his hair , pushing some pieces back behind his ear , curling around it to rub over the mole on his jawline.

“Betrayal in two acts,” he said , a way to stave off any statements either of them had. “Act two: the ferocity of a caring lady.”

“I don’t know how this relates to anything we just said,” Stark said , still steadily avoiding looking at him. “But lets roll with it anyway.”

“The cub has to drown-“

“Well I’m going to die then,” James deadpanned. “This job I’ll kill me before someone gets around to doing it.”

“All we require of you is to live out your normal life,” Althea said,” sure , we’ll send you on panels and talk shows and podcasts every once in a while , but that’s only because people believe you have a way with words. Mr. Stark is here to assist you with some of that, as per his agreement with me and the accords assistance program. It’s your way to help the avengers without throwing yourself onto the field, besides, people don’t want to see your fight. 70 years of fighting is too long for anyone.”

“I have really no idea why people want to hear me talk-“

“James!” She said , stern and cold. “Listen to what I’m saying.”

“Believe me Althea , I am. But I’m really not understanding why people want to hear me talk. I only spoke on stage because I was legally required to, not because I had a way with words. I was shitting bricks the whole time I was on stage and the fact that there were cameras wasn’t making it any better. I was focusing on the fact that later I could hop straight back into the car and finally have a sip of my coffee. I wasn’t even looking to inspire people or anything.”

“That’s why people like you,” Tony said , a slightly angry glint in his eyes. “People like you Because you aren’t looking for people to like you. Not like Rogers or Romanoff or Barton or Wilson. You weren’t looking for people to sympathise with you like they were. You just wanted to say what you wanted to say with as much neutrality as possible and go. You weren’t looking to push some kind of super secret agenda or even sway people's opinion about you , and that’s what swayed peoples opinions about you; you were completely resigned to your fate.”

“I’m completely resigned to my fate because this is what I deserve,” James shot back , eyebrows knitted together and teeth gritted. “This is what I deserve. Ihave done nothing to be worthy of someone’s kindness , someone’s happiness. I have yet to do anything that anyone can find gratitude for. I meant all the things I said onstage simply because there is nothing else for me to believe. Would you find sympathy for the wolf that tried to eat little red?”

“Yes,” Stark responder , eyes slightly harder. “Because all it wanted was food.”

“It doesn’t make the manipulation of an innocent child any better, it doesn’t make the game any fairer,” James said. His arm whirred , the vents releasing hot air as he clenched his fist mechanically. “And even if it was led by its hunger for food , it’s no excuse. You can find food in other places , you can find-“

“I think that’s enough,” Althea said, not looking at all pleased. “Keep your metaphors to yourself, we came here to discuss the requirements of Mr. Barnes obligatory job, not what constitutes gratitude and not what makes a person want to listen to you.”

“If we had come here for that , believe me this conversation would be much longer. As much as Hydra took from me they gave me. I do not have 70 years work of knowledge on human behaviour for nothing.”

 

*

 

The rest of their meeting went ok , if not slightly tense , but could James really blame him at all? He radiated unchecked hostility , like a man just waiting for a fight to come his way, or someone to really piss him off so he could just unleash all that tightly coiled tension.

Tony cornered James in the elevator , just as James was realising that extremis had done a number on Stark’s body. He was taller , more muscular , younger looking. James had no doubt that he’d turned the virus into something more like the serum , something that made him stronger than he ever was before.

James really didn’t care much about Stark, he cared about righting his wrongs and if Stark’s name appeared more times in his list than any other then he only had himself to blame for it. As hard as it was accepting that Hydra had made it so hard for him to gain control over his body , it was harder accepting that the moment he got full control over his body he went and followed Steve’s pursuit for stupidity. It was one of his biggest regrets , not sorting out the middle ground between Bucky, the soldier and the asset as soon as possible. If he had , there wouldn't be so many problems , so many loose strings or holes in his memories.

“Stark,” he said, a slight smirk in his face as the other man continued to stare at him. “What might you need of me?”

“I forgive you.” James’ heart stuttered as he sucked in a sharp breath , his easy smirk sliding off his face.

“Pardon?” He said , his manners slipping into place at precisely the wrong moment. He was anything but concerned about how polite he was being , he was confused. He was more than confused. It was like living with a heavy burden for your whole life and then having someone take it off and fling it into the abyss, but your still stuck in that crouched position (like atlas , holding up the sun , you must carry your burdens and shatter your wrists) but the absence of the weight no longer holding you down had you feel light , but you’re confused as to why you were still crouching.

He was terrible at analogies , he would leave that to Althea.

“I said,” Stark replied , somewhat sufferingly, “I forgive you. For what you’ve done. You had no control over your body or mind, I see why you done what you did.”

“The video is fake, to a point at least,” James said , realising what tiny was talking about. “I’m- I was the winter soldier. There would be no cameras to film what happened. I didn’t ever put my hands on them but I didn’t help them either. I - I shot the tyres , I poured the gasoline over the car , and I watched as it burned , but I didn’t put my hands on them. I still killed them, but not in the way anyone thought.”

Tony faltered, and a brief flash of pain mixed into his features. It was gone as quick as it came though the flash of blue in his eyes lingered for longer. “I know, I read the files. But I forgive you for killing them all the same. I loved them , contrary to what everyone thought , Howard was an ok father , I’m not glad he’s dead , I’m definitely not glad my mothers dead , but I forgive you. I forgive you Barnes.”

“Thank you , Stark. But as much as you forgive me , I must learn to forgive myself.” Stark turned the words over in his head , before nodding , and a load off of James’ back was taken off , flung into the abyss.

“It’s Tony.” He said , letting James have a little space. “You can call me Tony.”

“Then it’s James,”James said , giving the man his own small smile.

“I look forward to working with you.”

“And I You.”

**Author's Note:**

> Woah , the not quite one shot I wanted to make. It’s the 31st and I just managed it. Hope it’s 
> 
> [Link to 20biteen](http://wilder13.tumblr.com/)


End file.
